


My son, my son

by sircantus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: All the other characters except for Phil and Wilbur are just mentions, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Resurrected Wilbur Soot, Short One Shot, Winged Wilbur Soot, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29307969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sircantus/pseuds/sircantus
Summary: "Oh, my son." Phil says quietly, hearing fireworks go off, screaming in the distance. "My stupid, stupid son."He ignores the tears that fall off his face.(Or, in which Sircantus tries to write angst for some reason and ends up spinning it with a happy ending halfway through because they cried when it got too painful-)
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 48
Kudos: 328





	My son, my son

**Author's Note:**

> Its 2 am. And i,,, was in the mood for angst. 
> 
> Which is WILD, if you know me. 
> 
> So I wrote some, and then I cried, and made it better, because, man, fuck hurty feelings, if I wanted to be sad I would look outside
> 
> Lmao, enjoy

"You're my son." Phil says incredulously, raising his eyebrows when Wilbur squints at Phil from over the table, still too tiny to climb on the chair properly, instead just choosing to stand on his toes to look at Phil from the other side. 

"But are you sure." Wilbur asks, squinting even more, childish stubbornness present on his expression. 

"Am I-" Phil huffs, smiling. "I am quite sure, Wilbur."

" _ Very _ sure?" Wilbur only insists, disappearing behind the table, and Phil doesn't bother to look underneath him, he knows the kid has crawled under and, oh, yup. Tiny hands are poking at his leg. There's Wilbur. 

"Very sure." Phil grins, gently kicking his leg forward, hearing a squeal when he hits Will. 

"You don't  _ sound _ sure." Wilbur insists, his hands grabbing onto Phil's ankle under the table, and Phil just smiles. 

"And how do you know what I sound like when I'm sure?" 

"I just know." Wilbur answers, and Phil shakes his head, his hands busy fiddling with a compass as small hands tug at his ankle. "If you're my dad, then where are my wings?"

"I don't have the answer for that one, mate." 

"Am I not going to have wings?" Wilbur asks, and his tone shifts, suddenly much more somber, and Phil pushes his chair back, leaning down to look under the table. 

"I don't know. But I like to think you will." He says, Wilbur frowning at him, knees tucked into his chest from where he sits on the floor. 

"When will I get them?"

"I don't know. Maybe in a week. Maybe when you're much older."

"Maybe never?"

"Well, don't say never." Phil shrugs, holding a hand out to Wilbur, who holds onto his hand and lets Phil pull him out from under the table. "You oughta have some. Because-"

\---

"You're my  _ son _ ." Phil sighs, holding a hand to his temple. "And I love you, but Wilbur."

"You let Techno stay!" Wilbur crosses his arms, frowning. Phil wonders if this is just how teen angst goes. "Why can't we keep  _ him _ ?"

"Hey, Technoblade needed a home. We gave one."

"And Tommy needs a home too." Wilbur nods, Phil glancing down the hall to where a small kid sleeps in Wilbur's bed, unfamiliar but bright. 

Phil repeats to himself that he can't just grab kids. 

"What if he already has a home, Will?"

"Not relevant." Wilbur shrugs, looking to the side. "This is his home."

"I leave you for one week." Phil mumbles under his breath, fond. He leaves for one week, and he comes back to a new kid in the house, Wilbur insisting it's his new brother, and Technoblade immediately going to chop wood so he won't get dragged into a conversation over consequences.

"He's staying." Wilbur nods, looking stern. "He, he needs someone, and he's just young, Phil, he reminds me of you."

Phil wishes that Wilbur didn't know how to twist his heart so well.

"And if you don't want him, then fine! We'll just, just, go on our own!" 

Phil shakes his head, reaching a hand out. "Wilbur. I'd never force you to do that. Sure, I'm not exactly happy with this, but even then, I wouldn't kick you out, you're-"

\---

"-my son?" Phil asks, taking the paper with a confused face. "Wilbur?"

"You haven't heard?" The stranger says, a unimportant face, just someone passing who recognizes Phil's wings. "He's started a revolution against Dream. A new country."

Phil skims over the paper with a slow blink, reading over the poster. 'A place of freedom!' It declares. 'Come join l'manburg!' 

He had expected for his sons to be busy after they moved out to chase after their ambitions, but this is...somehow surprising.

He honestly should've expected something along these lines. Wilbur can be a tad bit dramatic, biting off more than he can chew, starting a revolution against a man who owns so much, and has power over so much. 

"Inspiring, huh? Bet he gets it from you." 

Phil laughs, shaking his head. "No, that's all him. I hope he's doing well." He hands the paper back, a polite grin.

"Don't you keep in contact?"

"Occasionally. He writes letters, although they can be quite scarce, but he never goes too long without something. He knows how upset I'd get over that."

"You proud?"

"Of course." Phil smiles, turning around and spreading his wings to fly. "He's-"

\--

"-my son." Phil murmurs, blinking at the letter in his hands, ache in his heart. "Oh, my son." 

_ 'The election went wrong. I don't understand. Me and Tommy, we had to run, I lost a life in the process, but Tommy is alright. We're trying to hide out-' _ The letter goes on, each word hitting Phil in the heart. 

A sudden letter, writing small, holding so much information of the past months, and Phil can only sit at his table and feel his heart ache in worry. 

_ 'We got Technoblade over for help, and I'm not sure if we can trust him, traitors are ever so present, but he could be of help _ .'

Phil makes a face at reading that part, slightly confused. Wilbur's always trusted Techno with his life, it's unusual for him to be so suspicious of someone who is his brother, at this point. 

He doesn't know what Wilbur went through entirely, though. The letters are short, and they never come at exactly the right time. Phil is behind, he's lost in what Wilbur's chasing, and he wonders if he needs to make a move, if this chase of ambition has turned into something deadly, if he needs to pull Wilbur out before it's too late. 

Surely he'll be okay. Pogtopia, a ravine, his boys together, making plans, surely they know what they're doing. Wilbur has been leading a revolution for a while. He should be alright. 

After all, he's-

\---

"-your son?" Dream asks, voice tilted in almost mockery. 

"I need to see him." Phil demands, the letter in his pocket ever so present, its words scribbled out in a mess, a desperate plea for help from  _ Tommy _ .

_ 'I don't think Wilbur's alright.' _ Phil had read, the sentences burning into his mind as guilt ran down his shoulders, because no, no he thought-  _ 'He's spiraling.' _

"Who exactly is your son?" Dream asks, genuinely curious, not knowing. 

" _ Wilbur." _ Phil hisses, holding his hands to his chest, his wings splaying out, Dream taking a slight step back. 

"Ah. Well, I can't just let you in!" He chimes, Phil shaking his head. "That would be irresponsible of me, you might mess stuff up."

"I need to see him!" Phil yells, Dream waving a hand. 

"No. Try asking again in a few days, maybe my choice will change. You are not allowed in my lands." 

"Dream!" Phil yells, Dream throwing an ender pearl, not sparing a glance. "I have to see him, please. He's-!" 

\---

"-MY SON!" Phil screams, Wilbur grinning, and it's so much more sad than he's ever seen, his eyes are so tired, and he only keeps pushing the sword into Phil's hands, pointing it- "No matter what you do-"

"Kill me, you fucking coward!" Wilbur laughs, tears streaming down his face. "I'm your son, and look at what I did! Look at what I did!" 

"It's not-" important, he wants to say. It doesn't matter. We can leave, I can take you, this isn't-

"It's not forgivable!" Wilbur cries. "I've destroyed so much, and for what? Nothing! I'm the bad guy!"

"No, you're not!"

"Stop fucking lying to yourself, Phil, and make the right choice. Kill me."

"Stop it, Wilbur-" Phil chokes out. You're scaring me, stop-

"Kill me! Fucking do it!"

"Wilbur." Phil says, his voice wavering dangerously, on the edge of breaking. "Even with all of this, you're still my-!"

\--

"-stupid son." Phil says quietly, hearing fireworks go off, screaming in the distance. "My stupid, stupid son." 

He ignores the tears that fall off his face. 

Wilbur's gone cold under him, and the sword feels even colder. There's blood on his hands, and Phil wants to scrub at it until his hands are raw, until he's taken it all off. 

"I'm so sorry." Phil cries, holding onto Wilbur by the shirt, leaning over him like he can shield Wilbur from the fighting far off, from the conflict and betrayal that's torn him apart. "Wake up."

Wilbur stays quiet. Still. 

Phil would give  _ anything _ to have it back. 

"Wake up, I didn't-" Phil whispers, holding his hands to Wilbur's face, ignoring the way they shake. "I didn't want this, you didn't want this, did you-?"

He's gone, last precious life killed, and it's all Phil's fault. He wishes it wasn't, he wishes he could swap places, so it's him dead on the ground, and Wilbur alive. He wishes this never happened. 

"Wilbur." Phil says softly, taking a sharp breath in, shoulders shaking. "Wilbur, please."

Wilbur stays quiet, so, so still. So cold against Phil's palms. 

"Wilbur." Phil breathes out, sobbing. "Please, please, you're my son, even after all this, I still love you, please, you're my-"

\---

"-son, right?" Ghostbur asks, smiling brightly. "Should I call you 'father'?"

"Oh, don't do that." Phil chuckles, blinking away the burn in his eyes, tears threatening to come up. "I'll feel old."

"Well, you are old."

"Fuck you, mate."

Ghostbur just laughs, just like when he was alive, and Phil hates the way he's so cold when he leans into Phil. "Nah, I'll just call you Phil. That's fine, right?"

"Whatever is fine." Phil shrugs, hating the way he sounds so echoey, hating the way the light in his eyes is gone. He hates how it's just a shell of Wilbur, but it's all he has. "After all, you're my-"

\---

"-Son?" Phil whispers, holding Wilbur close, a hand held consistently to his neck, and Phil feels like sobbing when there's a pulse. 

He's not cold. 

"Wilbur?" Phil whispers, and Wilbur stays still, but he breathes, weak and tired, and Phil just holds him close, shoving his face into Wilbur's shoulder.

It was all worth it, all those hours of searching and fighting, burning entire mansions to the ground over and over until the smell of ash was stuck in his lungs, it was all worth it. He found what he needed. 

"Wilbur." Phil says again, sobbing, and Wilbur doesn't respond, staying asleep, but he  _ breathes _ , and never did Phil think he would love Wilbur so much for just breathing, but he feels like it's the most amazing thing he's ever done. 

He's so pale, so light, but he's  _ alive _ , and Phil just cries and cries, before he can finally pick himself up and take Wilbur somewhere to actually rest. 

\---

Wilbur stays sitting by the edge of the lake, keeping his feet in the cold water, and Phil can't help but stare, smiling with pride at the wings that lay on Wilbur's back, at the way he still holds them awkwardly, still fumbles. 

He can't wait to see Wilbur fly. Can't wait until the two of them can make their way over to Techno and Tommy, finally make a place away from the conflict and war of Dream. 

"Wilbur." Phil calls, Wilbur turning his head with a hum, expectant. He looks better, these days. Looks more vibrant, more color in his face. His eyes are full of new light, something dimmer than before, but better than nothing at all. 

"Yeah?" Wilbur asks, raising his eyebrows, Phil taking too long to respond. 

Phil fumbles, stammering on his words, before Settling on- "You're my son, you know?"

Wilbur's eyes go a little wide, and he huffs. "I know, Phil."

"I love you." 

Wilbur looks away, back at the water, shaking his head. "Being sentimental today, I see."

"What? I'm only saying the truth." 

Wilbur smiles, and for a moment he looks overwhelmed with emotion, biting at his lip nervously as he moves his feet in the water. But it's simmered down soon enough, and Wilbur turns his head to Phil again. 

"Love you too."

Phil smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> This just in, Sircantus is so goddamn weak 
> 
> *hits table* BUT LETS GLOSS OVER THAT AND IMAGINE WINGED WILBUR-
> 
> Thanks for reading


End file.
